


Poetry in Darkness

by Meiri



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Professors, Professor Hermione Granger, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22840378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meiri/pseuds/Meiri
Summary: Who's been leaving poems for Hermione to find?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/surprise character
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: Haven Awards Writing Comp





	Poetry in Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my beta, K.

_ Saturday, February 14, 2009 _

Saturday mornings were for sleeping in and enjoying a lazy cup of coffee in her private quarters. And, ever since the Secret Santa that she'd joined with the other Hogwarts professors, Saturday mornings were also for sweet poems left on the mirror of her vanity table. Whoever it was managed to leave the poems without tripping her wards, so they probably were getting help from the house-elves.

While she was in the shower, she thought about who could be leaving her the poems. There were a few possibilities. 

Neville had taken over the Herbology professorship a couple of years ago, and he wasn't seeing anyone. Although she could have sworn he had his eye on Hannah Abbott. Then there was the new Potions professor, Draco Malfoy. They were cordial but not particularly friendly, so she wasn't convinced. The Muggle Studies professor, Dudley Dursley could be a candidate, she supposed. He helped her teach an extracurricular self-defense club, covering both Muggle and magical techniques.

Professor Hermione Granger exercised the greatest of patience as she finished working through her morning routine. Occasionally her gaze would stray from fixing her hair or blending her foundation to the scrap of parchment. Creamy paper and stark black ink--it was so tempting. But she would not permit herself to get lost in those words just yet.

Later, with a cup of coffee in hand, she would allow herself to fall into the nuances of the words.

_ Find my hand  _

_ in the darkness _

_ and if we _

_ cannot find  _

_ the light, _

_ we _

_ will always  _

_ make our _

_ own. _

_ -Tyler Knott Gregson _

~*~*~

That afternoon, Hermione sat in a comfortable chair in an abandoned classroom that she'd converted into a teachers lounge at the beginning of the year. Delighted at having dodged the supervisory rotation for this Hogsmeade weekend, she'd gotten a pot of her favourite white tea and a small plate of biscuits to go with her reading. Propped on her knee was a back issue of  _ Duelist Quarterly: Innovations.  _ The article on techniques to blend different kinds of shield spells was just the sort of challenge she was hoping to present her NEWT students. Eyes still focused on the page, she reached out for her notebook and fountain pen.

And then the room went dark. 

Flicking her wrist, her wand slipped from its holster to her right hand. Reaching with her left, she twisted so that she could place her periodical on the side table where her notebook rested.

She struggled to remember if she'd heard anything--an incantation, a footfall, even a click--before she was blinded. Harry always used to tease her about her situational awareness vanishing whenever she was reading. And yet, he'd never supplied an argument so convincing as her current predicament.

"Lumos," she cast quietly. No light appeared. 

"Finite." Her vision remained pitch black.

_ Not a spell then. Instant darkness powder perhaps, _ Hermione mused as she strained to listen for any sound that might give the culprit away. There was a faint crackle from what sounded to be across the room. 

_ The fireplace maybe? I lit the fire earlier, _ she thought as she weighed her options. Any demand for whoever caused this darkness to show themselves would likely be foolish. It probably wasn't a student. None of the students known for pranking were so subtle.

And still, there was no sound, aside from the burning wood from the fireplace. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione leaned back into the chair and did her damndest to relax. There was only one--maybe two--people in this castle who would try something like this. And recently, she'd begun wondering if they were one and the same. 

After all, not many people had heard of Tyson Knott Gregson, let alone could slip random quotes from his poetry into casual conversation...

_ I hadn't even heard of him until just before Christmas! Wait. This morning's poem mentioned darkness. _

Hoping she was remembering the words correctly, she started reciting, "Find my hand in the darkness--"

A familiar voice began to speak, "and if we cannot find the light--"

Hermione joined him for the final line.

"We can always make our own."

She smiled as she recognized the voice of the Muggle Studies professor and her co-teacher for the self-defense club. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she briefly debated whether she should comment on the poem or address their ongoing self-defense competition.

Before she came to any conclusion, a large hand reached over and took hold of her left one. He pressed a stick of sorts into her palm. Instinctively, her fingers curled around it.

"I hope you like daffodils and daisies."

Flowers. No one had given her flowers since she modified her parents' memories during the war. 

"I do, actually."

"You enjoyed today's poem, then?"

Hermione smiled, even though he couldn't see. "I think it's my favourite so far. Thank you."

"Would you..." he trailed off, hesitating. "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, I would, Dudley. Very much"

"Great. I'll pick you up from your suite at quarter to seven." His fingers found her wrist and trailed up her arm and shoulder before caressing her jaw. 

There was a slight shuffling sound, and his fingers slipped to her chin. Lips brushed against her forehead.

"I'll see you then," she agreed, breathlessly.

**Author's Note:**

> The collection the poem is from was published in 2014, but it suits my story so well that I'm indulging in a little anachronism.
> 
> As for Dudley? Well, who better to teach Muggle Studies than a Muggle who knows about magic?
> 
> My prompt was: Hermione returns to teach at Hogwarts only to stumble upon a strange mystery in the castle. Never one to back down, she's determined to get to the bottom of it...if her infuriating but sexy fellow professor will stop getting in her way.
> 
> I think I deviated a bit... but hopefully I'm not too far off the mark.


End file.
